by Renee' Irvin
“What did you do?” asked Isabella.
“What could I do? I closed his eyes and covered him up with an old blanket I had with me.”
“Why didn’t you take him into Charleston?” asked Jacqueline.
“Woman, you crazy? First, I knew he’d be smellin’ and then I was scared. A Negro riding into town with a dead white man on the back of his horse. You know, in some places dey just looking for a reason to string one of us up. Dere wasn’t no use in me giving dem one. And besides, he wuz dead, dead as he could be.”
More than a couple of hours had passed before they arrived to the sharecroppers cabins. Isabella jumped out of the buggy and ran through the golden brown fields. She saw a woman standing on the porch of one of the shacks; it was Eve. Isabella slowed and looked behind her; she waited for Jesse and Jacqueline. The three of them walked up to the porch to greet Eve.
“I come like I told you I would,” said Isabella.
Eve nodded and smiled. “If you stay too long, Mister Hoyt could come.”
“This time of night?” asked Jacqueline.
“He comes, all times, day or night it don’t matter. If he want something he come. And the truth is dey ain‘t much left for him to take; he dune take whatever dere wuz and de only thing left is us womenfolk.”
There was a moment of silence and then Eve said, “Youse got a gun?”
“I do.” Jacqueline smiled.
A little boy peeked out the window and then ran out onto the front porch.
“Where’s his daddy?” asked Isabella.
“Dey done shoots him dead.”
“Who is they?” asked Jacqueline, “Hoyt?”
“Hoyt and dat man named Jacob.” said Eve. “I didn’t expect it. I told him we’d do as we have to. I thought as long as we done dat den we’d be left alone.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?” Asked Isabella.
“I wanted to live. At first I begged dem to kill me, den I saw my young-uns face.”
Isabella looked out across the fields of cotton waiting to be baled. She closed her eyes and thought of her mama, granny and Tom, then she saw red blazes of fire.
“He’d rather see the crops go up in flames,” said Isabella in a soft whisper. The cotton mills were thriving and the sharecroppers and mill workers were starving to death, thought Isabella.
“Did you get it?” asked Eve.
“Yes,” said Isabella.
Clutching the money in her velvet drawstring purse, Jacqueline handed the money to Isabella and Isabella gave it to Eve “In the name of Jesus, sweet, sweet Jesus.” said Eve as she stood still and admired the money in her hands. “Where’d you get it?” She asked, still staring at the money, her knees buckling as she sat down in an old ladder-back chair on the porch of the shack.
“It was no glorious sacrifice, but I felt the shackles start to loosen when I gave it up,” Isabella said, looking at Eve. “Don’t feel ashamed, there is no difference in the four of us—we’ve all been bought and sold for a price. The shame comes in never doing nothing about it and dying that way.” Jacqueline placed her arm around Isabella’s waist.
Isabella broke away from the group and started to walk out through the fields. When she got in the middle of Jules’s cotton field, she turned and looked at Jesse, Jacqueline and Eve, but did not speak. Jesse drew back and narrowed his eyes. “Oh God, has she gone mad!” he whispered. Jesse stepped off the porch and started to run toward a pool of scarlet flames.
“Oh my God! She’s set the field on fire!” Screamed Jacqueline.
Isabella heard Jacqueline’s frightened voice calling for her, but she walked and then ran as fast as she could through the fields. Jesse ran through the fields after her, picked her up in his arms and ran back to the wagon with her.
“Go, and go fast!” Screamed Eve. “I’ll say one of dem crazy men that live out in de ruins set the field on fire. Now go, and get out of here! Remember, I ner seen you. They catch any of us colored folk being involved in dis they will tie us up like hogs!” Eve’s brown eyes were filled with tears.
Jesse smacked the whip across the rump of the horse and the buggy took off, so fast, Isabella and Jacqueline were almost knocked to the floor. They had to get out of there and get back to Savannah before sunrise. Jesse shook the reins and screamed at the horse to go faster.
Jacqueline looked over the side of the buggy and said, “What have we done? When Jules finds out, I don’t know what will happen.”
Isabella doubled over; she was in severe pain. She pulled up her skirts and placed her hand between her legs; they were blood red. “I’m losing the baby,” she whispered.
Hot tears came to Jacqueline’s eyes, “Baby?” she said.
Isabella opened her eyes and nodded at Jacqueline.
“Oh you poor thing,” Jacqueline whispered. She put her arms around Isabella and held her tightly.
Finally, Jesse slowed the carriage. The horse gasped for breath. They were in front of Jacqueline’s Oglethorpe mansion. “If anybody asks, we ain’t seen you. No matter what, the three of us wuz not together,” said Jesse.
Jacqueline jumped out of the carriage and saw someone walking in the house. “Patrick’s here. What am I going to tell him? I’ll have to tell him something!” Jacqueline sounded desperate.
Jesse said, “You tell him that you went to the musical last night in de park. Tell him you didn’t feel well and you fell asleep on one of dem park benches.” Jesse’s eyes searched Jacqueline’s face.
“Then what? He sees that I’m getting out of this buggy.”
“Den you tell him dat we found you asleep, tried to get you better and den brought you home.”
“Just like what we did the other day for Isabella!” said Jacqueline.
“Dat’s right, just like dat day,” said Jesse.
“I’ll tell him you took us to Doc Chandler’s. That’s it, we were all at Doc Chandler’s. He’ll back me up. That’s our story. We took Isabella to Doc Chandlers because she was losing the baby!”
“Dat sounds like a good idea. You shure Doc will say we were dere?”
“Yes, if I say so, he will.”
“Okay,” said Jesse.
Jacqueline turned like a frightened child, started up the steps and then ran back to the carriage and threw her arms around Isabella. “I’ll keep your secret, don’t you worry, but hurry home. Jules can be a ruthless man. I know. If there’s one thing he don’t like, it’s to lose” Jacqueline turned and ran up the steps, disappearing into the mansion on Oglethorpe.
When Isabella and Jesse arrived back at the house, Jules had not come home from playing poker. “Wherse you two been?” Asked Priscilla.
“Why you need to know?” Asked Jesse.
“Lawd, dere’s been a ruckus!”
“Whatcha mean?” asked Jesse.
“I’se mean de sheriff from Beaufort he done sent one of his boys over. Somebody set Mister Jules’s fields on fire. Dere wasn’t nothing I could do. Dere weren’t nobody here to go find Mister Jules and Ise worried myself to death bout all night. Wherese de two of you been?”
Isabella broke into sobs.
“What’s the matter? Lawd, ain’t anybody gonna tell me a thang!”
“It’s Isabella’s baby,” whispered Jesse.
“What ‘bout it?”
“She’s lost it,” said Jesse.
Priscilla looked at Jesse with stunned eyes and then turned to Isabella. “Carry her to the bed, get her off her feet. Has you seen Doc Chandler?” asked Priscilla.
“I’se going fo him now,” said Jesse.
“I seen it all,” said Patrick. “Where were you last night?”
“Well, if you seen it all, why don’t you tell me where I was?” Jacqueline’s green eyes blended in with her sallow skin. She felt sick to her stomach.
“I saw you get out of Jules McGinnis’s carriage just now. What were you doing in it?”
Jacqueline hated lying to Patrick, but even more, she hated the idea that she could los
e her house and be thrown into the streets to starve. Jacqueline had rehearsed it many times; she saw it all, and she lived it day after day. A woman with Jacqueline’s past never felt secure and trust was a luxury she could not afford. Suppose she had to start over again? Being forced to drug and rob men, and madams depending on her for money. She wanted desperately to start over. Jacqueline glanced at Patrick, he had money, not as much as Jules, but enough to keep her safe and off the streets. But she did not love Patrick, well, that wasn’t entirely true, she did love him, just not in the same way that she loved Jules McGinnis. But she could not think about that, for many reasons; Jules was not the kind of man that a smart woman should allow herself to love. He was dangerous and no one knew this better than Jacqueline Rousseau. It was ironic, because Jules had said the same thing about her. So often Jacqueline heard Jules tell her that it was dangerous for a man to fall in love with a woman like her. And here, now, stood a man before her, a good man, from one of the most respectable families in Savannah, and he loved her. She could break Patrick’s heart and lie to him or she could start fresh and tell him the truth. Besides, he would stand beside her and protect her. It was time for her to recognize the opportunity in front of her. Besides she wasn’t getting any younger.
“Patrick, I want you to sit down; there’s something I have to tell you.” Jacqueline took a deep breath. “I was in Beaufort last night and helped burn a field of cotton.”
Patrick looked stunned. “You did what? Why don’t you just tell me that you rode with the Klan last night? Jacqueline, are you goddamn crazy? I’m scared to ask—what else did you do?”
“I pawned the ring that Jules gave me,” she said.
“Oh well, what’s pawning a little ring after committing a crime like arson? Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“I didn’t actually burn the field myself; I just didn’t do anything to stop Isabella.”
“Well, at least you’re giving me a case I can build on. I feel so much better now. Jacqueline, what in God’s name were you thinking!” Patrick screamed. “Somehow, I know I don’t want to hear the answer to this question, but whose field did Isabella and her partner in crime burn?”
“Jules’s,” said Jacqueline.
“Jules,” Patrick nodded and said with folded arms, narrowing his eyes. “What, did you girls just get bored and decide you’d go out and pawn some jewelry and then burn a field of cotton?”
“It wasn’t like that,” said Jacqueline.
“No, I didn’t think it was going to be something that simple. Why don’t you sit down and tell me from beginning to end what happened last night. And Jacqueline, I want the truth, every detail.”
“Yes,” she said. “I understand?”
“Good, now start talking.” Jacqueline’s black cat sat watching, never taking his eyes off his mistress swishing his tail back and forth.
It was late afternoon when Dr. Chandler left the house on Monterrey. He ordered strict bed rest for Isabella and for her not to return to her usual activities for six more weeks. When the doctor had gone, Jules did nothing but sit in his chair and stare straight ahead for over an hour.
Isabella lay quietly, wondering what it felt like to be the husband of a woman who did not want him. They didn’t talk that night. An occasional door slamming was the only sound Isabella heard. With bent knees, Isabella finally fell asleep, both thankful and devastated that she had lost the baby.
Jules sat on the back porch, taking an occasional swig from a bottle of whiskey and right before passing out, turning it up and drinking the entire bottle.
When Isabella heard a loud knock on the front door, it was two in the morning. At first, she thought she was dreaming, but then she heard a man’s voice ask for Jules. It was Hoyt.
The next morning, Isabella awoke to Hoyt’s words. He had been there all night. Jules’s voice grew louder with each question. Isabella lay still, frozen with fear. Then, slowly she got up out of bed and dressed. Quickly, Isabella slipped down the hall, stopping outside Jules’s study. She leaned against the study door and listened.
“How many times do I have to tell you this story; hell, I’ve been here for hours. What part do you want to hear again?” asked Hoyt.
“Are you sure it was Isabella and Jacqueline?” said Jules.
“Hell, boss, I was right there with them.”
Isabella’s face grew hot. This was her house and that lying man was not telling her husband the truth. Or was he? She knew Hoyt had been nowhere in sight, he was not right there with them. But was he hiding somewhere? Was he in one of the sharecropper’s cabin’s daring them not to utter a sound? She listened in fear as Hoyt spoke.
“I would have thought a lot of things about Jacqueline, but I would have never expected Isabella to do a thing like that. I can’t imagine why.” Jules shook his head slowly. “I’d gotten use to her being outspoken, hell, she’s the one woman that spoke her mind and I actually listened. After all I’ve done for her, why? And how did those two get tangled up with each other?”
“What are you going to do with them?” asked Hoyt.
Jules looked at Hoyt hard, with a hurt face.
“Give them to me, boss.”
“What you gonna do with them?” asked Jules.
Hoyt smiled. “Just give them to me, boss, and me and the boys will take care of them.”
“I won’t be needing you and your boys, Hoyt. I’ll handle Mrs. McGinnis.”
“And the whore?” asked Hoyt.
Isabella’s stomach growled, she felt lightheaded and weak. She held her stomach and leaned against the door. She heard Jules speak again. “I would have thought it was the goddamn niggers,” he said.
“I’m sure that’s what the two of them wanted you to think,” said Hoyt. “What about the whore?”
Jules looked up at Hoyt and grabbed him by the arm. “Get her out of the house on Oglethorpe. But that’s it, you hear me? Don’t bother her; you lay a hand on her and I’ll kill you. I swear to God, if you harm her in any way, I’ll kill you.” Jules walked around to the back of his desk and poured a glass of whiskey.
Isabella heard Hoyt’s boots coming toward the door. She turned and ran down the hall. She was in a panic. It was clear to her, she had to go to Jacqueline and warn her. Isabella walked into the kitchen and the morning newspaper was lying on the table. The headlines read: Savannah Cotton Broker’s Field Burned in Beaufort! “Oh my God,” she whispered. She thought about the women in Beaufort and wondered if they were safe. She shuddered at the thought. Priscilla came in the back door with a pan of string beans in her hands.
Priscilla glanced at Isabella with pity. “You ain’t supposed to be out of dat bed. Dr. Chandler he say he forbid you to get out of dat bed for at least two days.”
“I heard him,” said Isabella.
“I thought you were sleeping,” said Priscilla.
Isabella looked at Priscilla. “Where’s Jesse?”
“What you need him fo’?”
“It ain’t none of your business.”
“I guess not, but you gonna get him killed,” said Priscilla.
“If you got something against me, why don’t you just come out and say it?” Isabella shot back.
“You sit here in dis nice pretty house not caring a thing about anyone but you self. You don’t care a thing about Mister Jules and you don’t care a thing about Jesse.”
“I don’t need you telling me what and who I care about!” screamed Isabella as she walked out the kitchen. She had her face in her hands, crying, when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.
“Shouldn’t you be in de bed?” asked Jesse.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” said Isabella.
“You can’t leave here now. You know what the doc said.”
“You don’t understand. I think I’m in danger and you need to take me to Jacqueline.”
“Now, dis is one time I ain’t taking you anywhere. You know what doc Chandler say. You want me to go get him and bring him ba
ck over here?” asked Jesse.
“All I want you to do is quit talking. I’m tired of everybody telling me what I need to do,” said Isabella. “Jacqueline needs me and I believe the Lord intends for me to help her.”
“I don’t think that’s what the Lord intends. He intends for you to stay alive and not be trying to get youself killed,” said Jesse.
Isabella held her hand to her abdomen. She felt dizzy and in pain, the room started to spin around. She grabbed Jesse’s arm and held on as long as she could and then she passed out. Jesse lifted her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom.
Later that evening, Hoyt got the chance he had been waiting for. Jacqueline and Patrick had been arguing for hours, and then Patrick started to drink. The more he drank the more questions he asked Jacqueline about her relationship with Jules. The more questions he asked, the more suspicious and jealous he became the more Jacqueline still had feelings for Jules McGinnis, and Patrick hated that fact. Patrick flopped down on the sofa, glared at Jacqueline and said, “Why don’t you tell me the truth?”
“I told you.”
“I think you are lying.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Maybe, to make me feel better,” said Patrick as he got up and stormed out of the house.
With a piece of paper in one hand, and a pen in the other, Isabella quickly scribbled a note for Jesse.
Jesse, Thank you for putting me to bed last night. I am much better this morning. However, I awoke to a horrible feeling that something bad has happened to Jacqueline and I must see if she is okay and warn her about Jules and Hoyt. Please do not worry about me. I will be fine.